


Hanahaki -Gabrinette version

by Anonymous



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, F/M, Flower Language, Flower Symbolism, Gabriel dies in this one, Gabrinette - Freeform, Hanahaki Disease, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Love You, Unrequited Gabenath, Unrequited Love, established adrienette, i couldnt figure out a way to save him that i would be comfortable with, i had to suffer and so do you, i wrote this when Emilie wasnt in the coffin yet, if you are still here, this already is uncomfortable, unrequited Gabrinette, you know who you are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: a.k.a Let’s ignore the coffin AU.I’m already in hell so why not take a ride on the Hanahaki Train. Choo Choo!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nooroo, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: Anonymous





	Hanahaki -Gabrinette version

Nathalie’s boss was being immature again. She has already suggested finding an illegal doctor to cut that abominable thing out of his chest since he’s refusing to fess up. Instead, he was looking for an akuma again out of spite. Hawkmoth was standing in his lair seemingly staring at the bright city lights of Paris‘ night life, but of course in reality he was looking into the emotions the night owls tried to conceal. In times like these, the world was passing him by like a fast car on a gloomy rainy day coursing over the foggy highway. One of the many butterflies brushed over his left ear before fluttering down into his open palm.

Who would he choose tonight?

The scorned wife of a politician who just witnessed that her husband indeed was cheating on her with a sixteen year old? Or maybe the college student who got stood up by his date again?

But could they be useful to him?

It was too late to send out a stubborn and impractical champion who wouldn’t listen to him. His aim was to wear the superheroes down. After all, if he wasn’t allowed to sleep well, why should they be able to?

There was a prostitute concerned about how little she earned up to now and what would happen if she couldn’t double it at least. Fear and Frustration. Until a car window was pulled down and the man inside it called her out. That one was out.

There were times, albeit few, where his mind made up scenarios in which his wife wasn’t missing due to some magical incident. It was highly unlikely, but kidnapping and human trafficking was a thing. In an unexpected turn of events he akumatized a young club-goer when her boyfriend turned out to be into knife play. Sick psychopath. Not that he felt any sort of sympathy for her personally, but to make himself feel better.

He would do anything to get his wife back. Even if it was just for a moment. To see her again, hold her hand, apologize for neglecting her and maybe, if she’d be able to forgive him, to start over. She was all he could think about.

So why the hell was this happening to him?

“Your son has returned from his date, Sir.” Nathalie informed him.

Right. Adrien had taken the new intern to watch a play or something. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

His head was spinning, chest constricting as Hawkmoth ripped off the butterfly brooch and put it back into its box, becoming Gabriel Agreste again. Nathalie handed him a bottle of liquid medicine which he drowned in one gulp. It tasted like garden mould and did little to help with the ache in his throat.

Nathalie sighed over his struggles to keep it in as another coughing fit hit him and handed him a bedpan. At least she wouldn’t tell him that ‘it’s going to be alright’ while he doubled over and hurled out the green vomit like his Kwami did ever since his personal hell had begun. His cheeks flushed over in embarrassment thanking her huskily once he was done coughing.

There was no point to sugar coat it.

Nathalie was half-carrying him to the elevator and he was too weak to protest. They left the mess of bile, steams and white rosebuds upstairs in the lair. Unhygienic sure, but his secretary had to concentrate all her powers to hold him up and besides, if he had to look at it any longer, he would either break out in hysterical laughter again or downright bawl his eyes out over the cruel irony of the situation. Both would have alerted his son and they couldn’t have that.  
Must be part of the miraculous. Getting overly emotional. Tch.

***  
~Earlier~

“Shall I make an appointment for you to finally see a doctor or do you deliberately want that chest infection of yours to get worse, Sir?” Nathalie didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm as she placed a cup of hot lemon tea in front of him in a rather loud, indignantly manner. Of course she wouldn’t dare to spill the content over his documents (battle plans) and his throat hurt too much to start an argument about her attitude. Just a millisecond after the teacup hit the desk with an obnoxious clatter, he was coughing again, fighting against whatever was intruding his breathing system. It was like he was struck in a circle of swallowing it down, only for it to crawl up his throat again like an octopus trying to escape a mason jar. He used to like Korean food, especially spicy things, but not any more.

He hated being sick. It disrupted his work flow. How did he get sick in the first place? It wasn’t like he was constantly making contact with other human beings and he washed his hands regularly. There was a large pile of yellow-greenish stained tissues in his bin and it seemed to have gotten worse over the last couple of weeks. Maybe he should make the time to see a doctor. He just nodded at her from behind his elbow in regards to her question and Nathalie responded over his coughing with her fingers flying over the tablet and informing him that she already scheduled an appointment for Thursday and was moving his other meetings to a later date when he suddenly dunked under his writing desk to grab the paper bin and emptied the contents of his stomach into it. Once his eyes made their way up from Nathalie’s polished black shoes to her frozen face, he raised a brow.

Two things happened at the same time shortly afterwards: Nathalie Sancoeur, his secretary who always kept her cool in front of him (and freaked out where it was out of his sight) took a sharp intake of breath as his Kwami made a strangled sound right behind him like they were the ones who had just coughed out a lung and almost died.

“What? What is it?”

“I’m not sure how we are going to explain that to a doctor, Monsieur.” Nathalie pointed at the garbage bin with her hand shaking.

“Noooo!!!! You can’t go to a doctor with it, Master. You need to see a specialist first.” Nooroo tweeted.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand glaring angrily at both of them.

“What is this?!”

In the bin, on the pile of used tissue papers were three green lumps. It looked a little bit like algae. Not the kind you could order in a Japanese restaurant for a salad, no. The actual underwater plant. Super sticky from his very own saliva. Wrinkling his nose in disgust he shoved the bin away and looked back and forth from his familiar to his secretary. On second glance, it didn’t look like seaweed.

“It looks like…”

“Phragmites,” Nathalie said with an equally disgusted look. She opened the drawer where they kept the first aid kits, took out some gloves and then went to take it out to the trash.

“Oh, at least they aren’t blooming yet,” Nooroo contemplated as she left.

“Yet?!”

His Kwami was covering in fear over his sudden outburst. Or at least Gabriel hoped he did, because what if this was some weird new disease contagious even to the kwamis? One didn’t have to be a rocket physicist to realize that choking on flowers wasn’t the usual for human beings and Gabriel couldn’t recall eating something like that so how did they get into his system?

“Explain it to us please.” Nathalie demanded, leaning against the door with her arms crossed. So she had returned while his mind stopped functioning for a moment.

The Kwami squirmed uncomfortably, avoiding their gazes.

“Thank you for cleaning that up, Nathalie.” the lilac Kwami whispered before jumping when Gabriel’s fist banged on his table.

“What the hell did you do to me? If this is a joke, I-”

“Master please, this has nothing to do with me or the miraculous.”

“So it’s my own fault that I’m suddenly vomiting flowers? What’s next? Will I be shooting butterflies out of my arse? Or maybe the universe is trying to tell me something? Because I don’t really get the metaphor!”

At this outburst, Nooroo went over to Nathalie for (probably) protection. Traitor.

“It’s Hanahaki.”

While his mind stopped functioning again, the needles prickling his neck returned and Nathalie’s hands once again danced over her tablet. If he’d been able to, he would have wrangled the explanation out of both of them.

“It’s in the early stadium, so your life isn’t in danger...” the Kwami left out the ‘yet’ because this time, he had to assume to be killed if he did utter it.

“As I already googled your symptoms a few days ago and the search almost always said to go see a doctor-”

“What is this gibberish then?”

“From what I can tell a metaphorical construct used in romance literature, especially fan fiction and the like, to describe the pain of unrequited love. But you’re not really spitting out flowers as it’s usually depicted, and besides-”

“It’s definitely Hanahaki.” Nooroo said before hiding behind her bun again.

“That’s ridiculous. Something like that couldn’t possibly exist.”

“There’s actually an address for a medical professional right here in Paris. His page suggests that you’re in the early stage and-”

“I’m really supposed to believe in this cock and bull story?”

“Master, I’ve seen it all before. Even with today’s advanced technology, you should see this healer first. The earlier the better.”

***

Three days later, he was standing in front of a worn down Chinese massage parlour. He didn’t expect anything but a quack doctor in the first place and yet he hissed at the universe for making him visit this abode. They’d better help him or he would maul this place down with a bulldozer. The door creaked as he opened it and he was greeted by an elderly Chinese who was lightening an incense stick.

“Welcome.”

“My secretary made an appointment for me with a TCM master called Fu?”

“Ah yes. A Miss Sancoeur called for a consultation. Oh, your aura is remarkable...”

More magic mumbo jumbo. Great. He was already light headed enough thank you very much.

“Please just get this over with.” (Before I cough all over your decorations out of spite.)

The Chinese man ushered him to another room where they sat down. Gabriel politely refused his offered tea and explained his condition with unmistakable sarcasm. He had the great foresight to leave his miraculous at home as this proclaimed expert asked him to remove his tie so he could prod every inch of his neck and his rib cage later while Gabriel fought against the irritation in his lungs. Taking deep breaths as instructed or at least trying to. Still, he couldn’t keep it all in and had to watch in disgust as the ‘doctor’ took the green pellets in his hands looking at them with fascination. What (probably) should have been a reassuring smile made Gabriel want to hurt the man.

“Hanahaki without a doubt.” he said and put the substance in a small metal pan. Then he proceeded to empty out a flask over it Gabriel had somehow missed him getting beforehand which caused the contents of the pan to flare up in a greenish colour. Once he was satisfied with his little demonstration he threw all of it in a bin, ignoring Gabriel’s glare.

“It has been a while since I’ve encountered it. Do you know what it’s-”

“I’ve heard enough about it, just tell me if there is a cure.” Gabriel responded dryly.

“If you know why are you here? What do you think the cure to unrequited love is?”

“I will not believe in a stupid fairy tale. If that’s all you have to say, good day sir.”

“Ah, one would think in a city with superheroes and their very own magic, the people would know that fairy tales can become very real.”

Gabriel really hadn’t the energy to argue with that any more. The man turned around and fished a bottle out of a (what he assumed) medicine cabinet.

“It is a very real disease, at least for you. You’re still in the early stage, but I’m sure you are a type A, which means a fresh unrequited love. And I’m confident in my skills that I can help you, if you don’t want to do something against it on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take this whenever there’s a flare up in your throat. A teaspoon should be enough to kill the parasites. In a few weeks, they’ll be dried up enough so you can get a surgery. Although I really suggest you figure something out on your own.”

“What are the other types and how are you so sure I’m not one of them?”

“Ah. Well, type B comes from the emotions of loss. Have you recently lost a beloved one?”

Gabriel choked. When his wife went missing it had been all over the media. How long has it been exactly? Eight, no, nine years ago.

“My wife has gone missing.”

“Ah. But she could be very much alive, couldn‘t she? Type B applies to mostly older people. Sometimes younger. The life long partner dies and a few weeks later they suddenly have a ‘heart attack’ as well. Even pets like a loyal dog can encounter it. With type B, the flowers dry out very quickly and that is why nobody recognizes it as Hanahaki. You could say they literally died from a broken heart.”

“Very poetic, but inconsequential to my case.”

“As I said, I’m sure you’re a type A. Type C usually happens after someone discovers he has never been loved by his partner in the first place. And with your wife missing I’d have to assume you have no reason to suddenly suspect that, do you?”

Gabriel stayed silent over this. Yes, their relationship had been anything but perfect and yes, most of it was his fault, but they loved each other, didn’t they? Or was she already away with a mysterious secret lover?

“Type A it is then. I admit everybody is different, but your progression rate is very slow. The flowers haven’t even bloomed yet. With the medicine, they will not grow bigger. Maybe you’ll experience some after effects once they are dried up enough to be surgically removed, but nothing life threatening. You can come get your refill anytime. Not necessarily in a fridge, but I suggest keeping it cool and dry.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“I would give you another remedy but if that won’t work either, the flowers will grow roots in your lungs, irrevocably damaging them and leading to a premature death, eventually.”

Cold dread ran over his back.

“I really suggest looking into at all your options. If I’m indeed wrong and your beloved wife is dead, then there is nothing I can do for you to begin with except lessen the pain. However, if there is someone-”

“There isn’t anyone!” shouted Gabriel and got up. Blood pumped in his ears and his fingernails bit into his palms hard.

The Chinese healer stayed calm, but Gabriel could tell he thought his customer was lying or something. The fashion designer ripped the bottle of medicine from his hands and turned around to face the door.

“My secretary will transfer the rest of the money for your services to your bank account.”

Master Fu simply sighed and wished him a good day before Gabriel slammed the door shut.

***  
~The next day~

Magic attracts other magic. He was sure of that. Nooroo could deny it but Gabriel remembered reading about the Black Cat’s curse somewhere in the non-gibberish sections of the book. Who said the Butterfly wasn’t cursed as well? He chose the name Hawk-Moth for a reason. Moths had the opposite connotation of butterflies.

The only two people in this world he cared about were his wife and his son. If Adrien hated him that would be unfortunate, but before this incident he rarely thought about the possibility. After all, he would be able to explain everything he’d done once he reached his goal. Even without the additional motivation of saving his own skin, he would obtain the ladybug earrings and the black cat ring. Emilie couldn‘t be dead and he refused to think she had already moved on. Not after all they’ve been through.

His thoughts were interrupted as Nathalie came in, a little earlier just as instructed, wearing a face mask and rubber gloves. Armed with every disinfectant and cleaning utensil on the market she went and scrubbed his lair. When you’re suddenly a henchwoman to a supervillain there are many things you have to do that aren’t part of your usual job description. He really needed to give her a raise for putting up with all of this.

At least his current condition inspired him to make a new line. If he couldn‘t prevent his death, at least he wanted to create something unforgettable. Flowers without the overly cutesy girly way. With sharp edges. Unisex. A little bit of Gothic and still Casual. Miss Dupain-Cheng jumped on the bandwagon immediately. She had gardening as a hobby and joked about having a green thumb. Not that he was one to talk about bad puns, but really? Talking about bad timing.

When their meeting was over, Adrien was waiting for her at the door, taking her hand into his. She didn’t squeal or flinch any more like she used to do when they were younger. Instead a warm smile graced her face and cheeks flushed in soft pink hue.

Right when he turned his eyes away from them, he was feeling choked again. It was as if he’d swallowed a cactus and someone started to pull, pull it slowly up his throat again. With a hand clamped to his mouth, he rushed out of the conference room, almost colliding with his sons shoulder. Ignoring both of them shouting for him, he disappeared into a bathroom, leaning heavily over the sink, trying to catch his breath.

“You look terrible.”

“This is the men’s bathroom, Miss Sancoeur.”

Totally unfazed by his glare, she raised a sharp eyebrow at him and pointed at her lips.

“You’ve got something...”

He saw his own eyes widen in fear as white petals fell from his mouth into the sink, joining turquoise leaves. Narcissus and aloe. Pretty and prickly. He flinched away from it and she made her way over to flush it down the drain. She left without a word to reassure Adrien and his girlfriend that it was nothing serious and he would feel better once he took a shower. He wanted to feel angry at his secretary for making decisions for him, but the thought of hot water did sound appealing. He was as sweaty as if he’d run a marathon. The warm steam would wash away any more mucus he’d definitely gonna puke up and loose his cramped up muscles. If he could, he would just go to sleep and pretend that tomorrow all of this was just a bad, fever-induced nightmare.

***

They’d fallen into a rhythm after a week, but they still couldn’t make out a pattern of what and when the inflammation of his symptoms was triggered. He started to take the medicine with his meals, as the stuff already tasted like dirt and grass and he wanted something nice afterwards. Nathalie was complying his child-like demands, for example, ordering milk with honey for him. She wasn’t even complaining about the nice pile of flower stems, petals and used tissues he left for her every day on his desk. While he held some sort of admiration for her putting up with his schemes for so long, he was definitely not in love with her. The attacks were random at best and could happen when she wasn’t around.

Gabriel wasn’t getting any better. In fact, he was starting to loose weight. He had to let Nathalie take care of all of his phone calls, after a very bad experience with Miss Dupain-Cheng where they (unconvincingly) told her there was a food processor running in the background and not him puking his guts out. Unconvincingly because they weren’t in the kitchen.

After another incident, he finally made Nathalie’s life a little bit easier. Or she did after he told her to buy a separate container for his discharge. There was a knock on his door.

“It’s Miss Marinette.” Nooroo added before hiding behind a picture.

Not trusting his voice, he got up and opened the door a little too quickly, which led to the girl who was about to turn the doorknob to topple forwards. And this time, he couldn‘t prevent a collision.

“I am so so sorry.”

“Yes, yes.” he said blandly.

“You’re here to talk about some adjustments...to the… new line?”

Her eyes were fixed on something behind him, eyebrows drawn into a frown. He turned around and brushed the used tissues off his desk, her eyes burning into his back. He didn’t know what to say to make himself look less like a slob.

“I...uhm...this month has been harsh on people with seasonal allergies, hasn’t it?”

He just nodded and gestured her to give him the documents she carried. As Marinette showed him the folder, he kept his face neutral despite the irritation in his airways. It was good that she was quite the talker, so he only had to nod when he found something passable, shake his head when it was horrible or take notes as she spoke. If she was annoyed by his little input, she didn’t let it through. Instead he was greeted with a smile that he unconsciously reciprocated. Then again it was hard to tell with his lips tightly pressed together in a thin white line. But when she finished her conclusion and he was about to send her off, the sun hit through his window and the world seemed to still for a moment. The streams of sunlight hit her skin, brightening her already flawless features. His dried up mouth stood slightly open in awe as the light gave her raven hair a midnight blue shimmer, a stark contrast to the bluebells of her eyes and lily white skin. The real nail in the coffin was the patient smile she gave him. That glowing smile and her feelings of joy radiating off of her felt like someone had punched him in the stomach repeatedly.

“Formidable.”

“Excuse me?”

“You… your choice of chiffon here is formidable.”

His little compliment send her over the moon and made his stomach cramp up in return. Gabriel send her off quickly before the inevitable happened.

This was okay.

He was an admirer of all beauty. Hell, his own akuma form was based on collecting beautiful things. These feelings weren’t of romantic nature. He was one hundred percent convinced that these feelings weren’t of romantic nature. So what if she had a face that the angels must have carved out of marble? A beauty you couldn’t capture on a canvas. His past would haunt him forever and the present was close to being just as cruel. He put the blame on his current condition. The sleep deprivation and the circle of nausea, vomiting, migraines, abdominal and/or chest pain had taken its toll on his psyche. It must have been just his imagination and nothing else.

The callas and thistles he puked out later seemed to agree only partially.

[...]  
He felt like he had swallowed marbles again.

“The medicine isn’t working. You’re going to die like this Master.”

“And what do you suggest to do? According to the blood tests we send to actual doctors, I’m medically fine.”

“You know the other cure.”

He couldn‘t help it. Just like the flower pellets, dark waves of laughter escaped his mouth. It didn’t last long, soon to be replaced by coughing, but Nooroo waited patiently.

“Well… you could make an actual champion! One with healing powers that-”

“Ladybug would mistake for a defenceless akuma, reversing its effects like she always does.”

His last akumas had been mediocre at best. And Paris was already making fun of him for it. Besides, if it was that easy, why hadn’t a former Papillon user tried to cure cancer or stop starvation? His powers were limited. That’s why he needed the Ultimate in the first place!

“Even if… there was someone, I couldn‘t just start randomly confessing my love for them.”

“You’ve been twisting other people’s emotions for so long, surely you could make that person fall in love with you. Or is that where you draw the line?”

Gabriel’s expression clearly read ‘don’t be daft’ and his kwami whimpered again.

“Because romance has turned out so splendidly for me so far. I can picture it clearly. Marriage. Another child or two. Lots of kinky sex. A perfect life right out of a chick lit...or a porno.” he blinks his eyes exaggeratedly, hands clasped together like a little school girl.

People had always been wrong about his marriage. Emilie – for some reason he still doesn’t know – had wanted him and soon he was entranced by the peacock’s charm and power. Everybody believed they brought out the best out of each other, but he was still the same. His true self had been dormant for a very long time. Being with her had been like he was a slightly happier version of himself. He wasn’t angry about it. Not any more. Parts of him really did love her and still do. If he hadn’t cast her out that day… He didn’t doubt her love for him, although there are all kinds of love and hers probably didn’t fit under the ones portrayed in these cheesy romantic comedies his son liked so much.

“Stop being a piss baby about it.” Nathalie muttered under her breath.

“Excuse me? Have you forgotten whom you are working for ?” he points to himself, but she just tweaks her glasses before going back to work.  
***

Surely not helping with his case, but he decided he needed a distraction. And what better way to distract oneself than to get drunk? Nathalie didn’t say anything as they entered the limousine, clad in their usual outfits plus a face mask for him. She had booked the secluded room he preferred in one of his favourite restaurants. He liked it because the semi tinted windows allowed him to observe the crowd from above without having to listen to their conversations.

They didn’t talk for the entire ride. What was there to talk about anyway apart from his unpreventable demise? She would do her everything so he didn’t end up drinking himself into a bloody coma or publicly embarrassing himself while he tried to get as drunk as humanly possible before that happened.

He didn’t know why, but he felt like he wanted to be there. For some reason, something he couldn‘t understand had drawn him to this place. It was odd considering the restaurant was almost empty today. After Nathalie had ordered for them, they were back to square one, silently staring at one another or the people dining below. The constant pressing itch was still there, challenging and mocking him, waiting to be let out. Their food arrived quickly and while it wasn’t as delicious as it used to be in his memories, it did still taste amazing. With a side note of grass and lead of course. He would have made a snarky joke about their wonderful ‘date’, but he feared they would go back to the circle of how there was a possibility that someone cared for him and that he could be in love with someone else when he spotted them.

Adrien and Marinette had just entered the restaurant and were to be seated. His mood soured as a yellow rose covered in his blood fell from his lips into his napkin. Nathalie seemed to break into a mild panic.

“They can’t see us, but if you want to leave-”

“Nonsense.”

They should have, because up to the moment the waiter bought the young couple champagne, everything had been well. Gabriel had successfully eaten a meal without another wave of nausea or vertigo hitting him. But the universe was cruel and decided to destroy this moment of peace. All it took was Adrien to get up from his chair to do that. That, and falling down on one knee in front of her. And that was when everything went all wrong.

Nathalie had turned white as a sheet while Gabriel drowned his drink as the urge to cough increased its pressure again. They could see Marinette nodding, crying and laughing when Adrien put the ring on her finger. He twirled her around and they kissed, surrounded by the other guests clapping and cheering for them.

He had to get out. He had to escape. He had to flee. But he was stuck to his chair. Completely lost in thought, he missed Nathalie getting up and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You knew.” he said weakly. It wasn’t an accusation, merely stating a fact and more towards himself than her.

“I had my suspicions but hoped otherwise.”

He still had no idea how or when this happened.

***  
They had almost made it out of the restaurant when Adrien noticed them.

“Father! Nathalie! I’m so-”

His blood ran cold in contrast to his pulse speeding up, pounding so loudly in his ears he couldn‘t make out the rest of the sentence. Suddenly he was glued to the spot again, unable to look away. He literally stopped breathing when the golden band on their raised hands sparkled in the dimly room lightening. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pockets just in time to clamp it over his mouth, but stumbled forward none the less, doubling over and coughing into the tissue.

His future daughter-in-law rushed forward with a glass of water and panic dancing over her face. The other, ring-less hand rubbed his back in a comforting manner and he couldn‘t shake it off. All he could do in this situation was tremble as he coughed and coughed, choking on magical flowers.

When he lifted his head he looked directly into her large deep sky blue eyes which got even wider. The glass fell out of her hands and she screamed the moment she saw the blood stains on his hanky.

“Someone call an ambulance!”

She screamed at the audience that kept staring at them instead of moving. Nathalie was rustling with her bag behind him, fishing out her mobile phone and dialled the number. Just like everything else it felt like she was far far away from him. Them. For this very moment, the world consisted of nothing but them.

He blinked to clear his vision. The water of the glass she had offered him was seeping into his pants. Adrien’s face came into focus, tears of fear running down his cheeks. At least he would never know why Gabriel was dying. They would think it was a simple heart attack or something like the old Chinese man had told him, right? His son was rooted to the spot, body tensed up.

Gabriel felt full, so very full because of the flowers in his lungs. After all, he hadn’t had a large dinner. He imagined a giant vase sitting on his chest, filled with the dead flowers choking him. Blue roses, sweet peas, yellow tulips… white and pink stargazer lillies. His insides are tightening. It feels like the roots wrapped around his organs are trying to break all his ribs. Pain everywhere. In his arms, his shoulders, his throat, and his jaw. How much longer will it take until his heart finally stops beating? Everything slowly faded to black.

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike the author of this story, Gabriel didn’t have to look up the meaning of the flowers. Perks of being a designer.  
> (all lazily taken from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_symbolism) 
> 
> Calla (I admire your beauty)  
> Thistle (that’s too dangerous)  
> white rosebuds (unable to love)  
> Phragmites (please make a decision already)  
> yellow rose (jealousy)  
> aloe (grief)  
> Narcissus (unrequited love/selfishness)  
> zephyr lily (I must atone for my sins)  
> blue roses (impossible)  
> Primrose (desperation) 
> 
> White lily (chastity and virtue, additional meanings and symbolism: Peruvian lilies/ alstroemeria represent friendship and devotion,  
> white stargazer lilies express sympathy and pink stargazer lilies represent wealth and prosperity. Symbolizing humility and devotion  
> As the flowers most often associated with funerals, lilies symbolize that the soul of the departed has received restored innocence after death.) 
> 
> sweet pea (goodbye)  
> yellow tulip (one-sided love)


End file.
